


Scarlet Vibrato

by AlolanLibra



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Heartache, Inspired by Music, M/M, One Shot, Sexual Tension, Soulmates, Spiders, Yorknew City Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 06:57:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12676719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlolanLibra/pseuds/AlolanLibra
Summary: Kurapika couldn’t escape the orchestration within his mind, though it was softening to a din behind Leorio’s presence. His heart rate had even faltered a little, though he would never admit it.Set at the end of the Yorknew Arc, a oneshot that shows a not-so-composed Kurapika struggling not to fall into the arms of a fellow Hunter.





	Scarlet Vibrato

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo this is the first oneshot I have ever written... it was inspired by the music of Studio Ghibli and written in a two hour break at my office desk... so please forgive me if it could do with some work!! I just had the idea of an unseen moment between everyone's favourite angsty otp. I hope you enjoy reading - please let me know what you think in the comments below! Thank you for reading!

The sky ahead was heavy with charcoal, lit from beneath with a faint blood-orange sun, slipping away past the horizon. Lights, glittering like far-away stars, were beginning to adorn the surrounding high-rise buildings. It seemed the landscape was almost burnt, a coppery hue lain over the city, though it was unclear whether this was just through Kurapika’s vision. Scarlet, deadly eyes watched over the city. His whole body heaved; he was worked up and struggling to regulate his breathing. Blonde hair quivered delicately around his face as a deep anger radiated from his core. He was deaf to the room around him, though it was quiet anyway. All that filled his head were the melodic, bass notes of his own heart. Like a piano violently playing along, the symphony mirrored the tantrum of his emotions; the tumultuous chaos into which he had fallen deeper and deeper since arriving in Yorknew. This was why he didn’t hear the click of brass when the door closed behind him. Nor did he hear footsteps approaching him, nor the soft clearing of a throat, followed by a grave utterance of his name.

“Kurapika…”

He was unflinching in his numbness.

A hand lightly hovered over his shoulder. Then he heard it above the building crescendo this time — “Kurapika” — the voice was firmer.

Kurapika surrendered his solitude, closing his eyes. “Are the others okay?”

The hand finally clasped his shoulder, and Leorio swore that for a second – even if it was only a second – he had relaxed into the touch. “They’re just fine,” Kurapika’s deflection of the real issue hadn’t satisfied him, his tone clipped. “They’re mostly worried about you,” he huffed.

Kurapika couldn’t escape the orchestration within his mind, though it was softening to a din behind Leorio’s presence. His heart rate had even faltered a little, though he would never admit it. He wondered if Senritsu had heard it, though he didn’t know where she was. It didn’t matter. As long as they were all safe. He wasn’t ready to look Leorio in the eye. “They needn’t worry,” he was listless, “I’m alive, aren’t I?”

Leorio wondered about the answer to that question. He wanted to pull the younger man around to face him. He wanted to break the huge barrier that had been building its way up between them in the time they had spent apart. It was like a wall of frosted glass – he could make out just enough to see what was happening on the other side, but needed more. He wondered what words would shatter the glass. He remained silent.

Kurapika looked up and out of the window once again. The sun had all but faded, grimy peach remnants smudged across the darkening clouds being the only clue of a sunset. The piano was playing a sadder tenor now. He felt a stinging in his eyes and his vision blurred. “There’s no more to do here.”

“Kurapika, you should be–” Leorio stopped himself, knowing full well the effects his thinking aloud could have on his friend right now. He tried again, “Destroying Uvogin and sealing Chrollo’s Nen were more than anyone else could have ever imagined achieving…” he hesitated before adding, “you’ve done enough.”

Chords, emphatic and hysterical, raged inside Kurapika at these words. “Enough…” he whispered, almost genuinely contemplating it. “How? How will I ever have done enough?” His voice remained low and unwavering, contrasting his insides. However, there was an unmistakable venom in his tongue that suited the harsh melody.

Leorio’s hand still silently cupped Kurapika’s shoulder. Strong and sturdy, the hold he had on him did not flinch. He again thought about pulling Kurapika’s body close to his, so close that he would be able to breathe him in, inhaling the fragrance of his hair, brushing lips against his pale skin. He wished so desperately for a view into Kurapika’s eyes. “Don’t do this, Kurapika,” he pleaded quietly.

Kurapika’s face was still shrouded by hair, with strands now stuck to the wet trails that tears had left behind. They dripped off his sharp jaw onto grey carpet, leaving dark stains at his feet. He was quivering more harshly now – his body almost convulsing with anger – as the song built to an almost unintelligible sound. He could barely hear Leorio anymore. He could barely take any more of the piano’s playing. His breath shook as he shrieked, the words almost not belonging to him, “it… will never… be… enough!”

Leorio’s hand was suddenly thrown from Kurapika’s shoulder with such force that he stumbled back a few paces. The Kurta had now half turned, giving Leorio a full view of the angst he felt. The silhouette of his face, dark and bejewelled by ruby irises, said more than Leorio needed to know. That look told him more than words ever would. No amount of embrace would ever make Kurapika okay – no amount of love could ever _fix_ him. It was naïve to ever have thought it could. Leorio knew all this. He saw the look of immeasurable pain in Kurapika’s eyes. It was near impossible to hold his gaze, yet it truly was impossible to look away. Leorio’s mouth hardened into a thin line. He stalked back across the space that had just been created between them. Leorio knew the man standing before him; he knew that the frosted glass was bulletproof and that those precious stones were impenetrable. Though, simultaneously, he knew that the pain he felt was incomparable – he knew that Kurapika’s heart was soft and warm beyond everything else. No amount of love could ever fix him, but that would never mean Leorio wouldn’t still love him. He stood before the blonde, their faces inches apart, and took the beautiful, fair face between his fingers. “You,” Leorio paused, his words barely there as they swept across Kurapika’s dampened mouth, “you were always more than enough.” Leorio closed the gaps between them, a kiss enveloping the pair of them together.

Kurapika’s mind burst into falsetto. Sweet and slight, the tinkling of the piano was now only just tangible. It was an exquisite feeling, this elegant, dainty song. It was almost the feeling of freedom, light and graceful, pattering on his heart. The notes deepened into an alluring soprano as Leorio’s hands moved from his face down to his waist, pulling it in and bringing their hips to meet. It was in the twisting of his mouth, the way his tongue traced Kurapika’s bottom lip, the grip he had on Kurapika’s body. He lifted his own frail hands to drag fingers across Leorio’s neck, then combing them through his short, dark hair. They were held in this kiss for what felt like hours, their bodies moving together to the music that Kurapika never wanted to end. Their minds danced around one another, and it was as if, for the first time, someone understood. Kurapika knew from the way Leorio held him, with fragility and desire, that the man he embraced was someone who understood. The feeling was overwhelming and haunting, but also everything he didn’t know he wanted. The tears were once again streaming down his sallow skin, this time mirrored by ones tracing Leorio’s face. This moment was unadulterated — and Kurapika felt vulnerable in the first time since he could remember. The internal song was gaining tempo, gradually warning him. When their lips finally parted, he wanted to keep his eyes closed. He didn’t want to have to see or feel or deal with what was in front of him.

“You’re back,” Leorio said slowly when Kurapika eventually looked at him. Their foreheads were close, and Leorio’s gaze was inviting. His hands still held Kurapika at the waist, his fingers flexing slightly when they made eye contact.

Kurapika swallowed, stumbling over his thoughts with his head still full of an uneasy tune, “w-what are you talking about?” A frown now softly strangled his petite features.

Leorio was struggling not to smile into the smoky, grey eyes before him. “You’re back to yourself,” he paused before adding with a grin, “I must have quite an effect on you…” He chuckled proudly before his concern took over once again, “I’m sorry if I startled you, it’s just—”

“Save it,” Kurapika’s tone cut through his soft words. “It’s fine… thank you for, well, snapping me out of it,” he sounded almost dejected, adding, “we’d better get going.”

“But, Kurapika,” Leorio was hurt and he couldn’t mask it, “you can’t tell me that—well that didn’t, _do_ anything for you?”

Kurapika met the claim with silence, unable to compose himself enough to lie to Leorio. He sighed, settling eventually with, “whatever _that_ was, it’s done.” He turned to the door, his words harshly silencing the room.

Leorio scoffed as Kurapika began to walk away. “Sure,” he said louder with a thin veil of nonchalance, “as soon as some one really cares, you push them away — that’s a cliché if I ever heard one.” His hands were now buried as balled fists in his pockets. It was tough for him to remain calm, though he managed it for the other man’s sake.

Kurapika halted and glanced back over his shoulder, flashing a glint of a red, crystal earring amongst his hair. He took Leorio in — now a blackened figure against the night sky beyond. His shoulders were hunched, his stance protective and insecure. A pang of remorseful piano played in Kurapika’s head. He quietly remarked, as though not addressing Leorio but merely thinking aloud, “someone like me doesn’t deserve someone who really cares.”

And with those almost inaudible words, he was gone, leaving Leorio alone and in the dark.


End file.
